


Drunk on love

by chaoticdean



Series: Suptober 2020 [27]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel/Dean Winchester Anniversary, Darkest Roads Verse, Drunk Sex, M/M, Married Castiel/Dean Winchester, Suptober 2020 (Supernatural), idk what to tag this anymore, motel sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:41:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27235159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaoticdean/pseuds/chaoticdean
Summary: Suptober 2020, day 27: banquet.Dean’s analogies are usually spot on, but maybe he’s had a bit too much whisky to be clever tonight (or maybe Castiel’s mouth glued to his throat is preventing him to think clearly, who knows?)———(Darkest Roads' verse)
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Series: Suptober 2020 [27]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1949341
Comments: 3
Kudos: 83





	Drunk on love

They stumble into the motel bedroom still clinging firmly onto each other and giggling like drunken idiots. Dean pushes the door with his foot to shut it close while Castiel launches an attack on his neck, mouth moving from his rough-stubble jaw and down the twitching line of his throat, leaving open kisses that send goosebumps into Dean’s bones. It’s a matter of seconds before clothes start flying, Dean’s down to his boxers in an instant, but Castiel is still infuriatingly _too clothed_ for Dean’s liking.

The hunter can’t seem to keep it shut, moaning like a schoolgirl as Castiel licks and nibbles along his collarbone, leaving faint pink traces on the tender skin. It takes his drunk brain half a second to register that they’re in their bedroom now, where there’s a _bed,_ and they don’t have to fuck it out against the goddamn door (and that’s a relief, because Dean’s knees aren’t what they used to be and although Cas is still a force of nature, he’s pretty sure letting his husband fuck the shit out of him pinned against a motel wall while completely and utterly drunk at 3 in the morning would cause his heart to give up and alternatively, his knees to collapse).

Instead, he grabs Cas by both shoulders, tears his white shirt apart (the sound of the buttons popping up and rolling on the floor almost makes Dean feel giddy), and shoves him on their bed. Castiel looks at him then, his hair completely disheveled by Dean’s hand, looking straight-up like living and walking sin personified with his breathing ragged and lust-blown eyes, naked chest an invitation for Dean to do whatever the fuck he wants to do with it.

Because he _can_. Because he’s _allowed_ to. Because they’re both here and together now, and sometimes Dean thinks they’ve been living in a fantasy, because when did Dean Winchester ever get what he wanted?

“Are you gonna come get it now, or do you plan on staying here gazing at me for the rest of the night?” Castiel’s voice comes in, all whisky sour and cigarettes, breaking Dean’s train of thoughts, sending a bolt of arousal into his bones, “Want you, honey.”

“Fuck, Cas,” Dean breathes there for an instant, unable to tear his eyes away from this image, “you look like an all you can eat buffet right now, you know that?”

Cas laughs, and Dean should be used to the sound by now, but every time it happens it still sends a jolt of joy through his blood, “yeah? I’m not sure I’m a fan of that analogy. Come here, Jesus fucking _Christ,_ you’re a dense motherfucker when you’re drunk _”_ he growls.

Dean finally complies, straddling both of Castiel’s leg before he goes back to kissing the shit out of him, all tongue and teeth and _fucking sloppy_. Cas’ hands are _everywhere_ , traveling on his skin and sending shivers into him, nails digging into the small of his back and pressing him deeper against his chest over and over again.

“Your a whole-ass _banquet_ , baby,” Dean laughs against Castiel’s mouth, relishing the deep moan escaping Castiel’s lips as his hands work on his chest, “I’m going to eat every single thing on the table tonight.”

“Promise?"

"Promise."

And, well, Dean makes good on his promise _,_ and it’s a goddamn miracle that the bed is still standing once they’re done. Dean’s pretty sure he won’t be able to walk properly for the next 24 hours, but then again, it’s a testament to Castiel’s skills in bed… Not that he ever doubted him, thank you very much.

And when they finally lay against each other still panting and drunk on love (and a conspicuous amount of alcohol still in their systems),Dean lays a trail of kisses down the hollow of Castiel’s throat before he murmurs “happy anniversary, babe.”

Cas hums gently, tightening his hands on Dean’s arms around him, “did the banquet meet your expectations?”

Dean laughs against his skin, ghosting his lips under his husband’s jaw, “always.”

**Author's Note:**

> _  
>  **rebloggable on[Tumblr](https://chaoticdean.tumblr.com/post/633170463922798592/drunk-on-love)**   
>  _


End file.
